We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Luc Martineau a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.
Hi Luc, thanks for joining us today. Too often the media represents innovation as something magical that only high-flying tech billionaires and upstarts engage in – but the truth is almost every business owner has to regularly innovate in small and big ways in order for their businesses to survive and thrive. Can you share a story that highlights something innovative you’ve done over the course of your career?
For forty years, I painted traditionally—oil and acrylic on canvas—while building a career in law, eventually becoming a judge. At 66, I made a bold decision: I left the courtroom to fully embrace art. What I never imagined was that, just a year later, I would be painting on haute couture dresses and hats.
In 2023, my longtime friend, fashion photographer Richard Tardif, introduced me to Frank Sukhoo, a master designer in luxury fashion, and Madeleine Cormier, a milliner who crafts hats that make women dream. Inspired by nature and abstract expressionism, I created unique, hand-painted dresses and hats, bridging the worlds of fashion and art. These pieces were later featured in Ottawa Luxe magazine and came to life on models at the Canadian War Museum.
But it didn’t stop there. The following year, this artistic collaboration evolved with visual artist and designer Shelby Johnstone, adding the dimension of oniric memory to the fusion of art and haute couture.
The Family Constellations project is my most ambitious and innovative work. It is not just a fusion of disciplines but a reimagining of art as living memory—bridging past and present, canvas and fabric, personal history and universal archetypes. Inspired by my mother, Marie-Blanche, a woman of elegance and mystery, I hand-painted sculptural gowns that embody her legacy. One of them, Susurros de la Creación (Whispers of Creation), is a fiery red dress evoking passion and resilience, reminiscent of Elizabeth Taylor in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Another, The Oracle of Silent Memories, reflects my mother’s journey through Alzheimer’s, painted in turquoise, violet, and rose—colors of transformation.
Family Constellations is more than fashion; it is storytelling through movement and form—an invitation to explore our secret selves through art. In the process, I rediscovered who I was. Machiavelli once said that the bold seize opportunities, and that is exactly what happened.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.
I see myself as a hypersensitive explorer, navigating life with the heart of a child discovering the world. Consciousness is the essence of being, and I strive to co-create all possibles. Art has been my passion for as long as I can remember, and since retiring from the judiciary, I have devoted myself entirely to it.
In 2022, I established my studio at the Complexe du Canal Lachine in Montreal, where I work across painting, digital art, photography, and sketches, blending traditional and contemporary techniques. My multidisciplinary approach allows me to merge different artistic languages into a unified vision, where each piece becomes a bridge between memory, imagination, and the present moment.
To me, art is like cinema—a way to tell stories that are both vivid and universal. I’ve always been drawn to fairy tales and their archetypes, where symbols speak of loss, love, and transformation. Like art, these narratives help us navigate life’s mysteries, shaping emotions and realities that words alone cannot capture. This cinematic vision informs my work, where colors and forms act as storytelling elements, inviting viewers into a world beyond the visible.
I explore the interplay of light and shadow, delving into the raw, unfiltered essence of human experience. In my I AM series, I reveal only the shadow—stripped of the softening veil of light—while in other works, I sublimate darkness into softer hues, transforming despair into something bearable. My artistic process is an alchemy of emotion—by confronting darkness, I seek to unveil something transcendent.
What sets my work apart is its fusion of disciplines and deeply personal storytelling. My goal is to create emotional connections, drawing the viewer into a shared exploration of self and perception. I am most proud of the bridges my art builds—between different media, collaborators, and the audience. Through exhibitions and projects, I continue this journey, shaping meaning through creative expression.

Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?
As a child, I was very different from others—a solitary, hypersensitive dreamer living in my own world. Today, we might say I had Attention Deficit Disorder, but back then, I was simply “the strange kid.” At seven, I believed I could fly. I would run around the schoolyard, arms outstretched, imagining myself soaring like a bird. Instead of admiration, I was met with mockery and laughter.
School was a battleground. I was bullied relentlessly—taunted, pushed, even physically attacked in locker rooms and the schoolyard. “The poet, the poet is coming!” my classmates would jeer, using my sensitivity as a weapon against me. The world has not changed much; there are still bullies. Back then, I lacked the physical strength to defend myself. Instead, I turned to something else: the power of knowledge, imagination, and resilience.
The impunity of my bullies and the indifference of teachers enraged me. I think I chose law because, deep down, I wanted to be stronger. I wanted justice—for myself and for others who had felt powerless. Law gave me the armor I had lacked as a child, but art gave me wings.
Art allows me to reclaim what was once ridiculed—my sensitivity, my imagination, my belief in things beyond the visible. What once made me an outsider is now my greatest strength. Today, I paint, I create, I tell stories, and in doing so, I soar.

Have you ever had to pivot?
I began my legal career in a small firm, advocating for civil rights, unions, artists, and individuals who had been unjustly dismissed. This work gave me immense satisfaction—I felt I was on the side of justice, fighting for people whose voices needed to be heard.
But by the mid-90s, the world had changed. Globalization, corporate mergers, and economic shifts reshaped the legal landscape. I followed the trend. By age 35, I had climbed the ladder to financial security, working in a large, prestigious law firm, handling high-stakes cases for powerful clients. Intellectually, I thrived—the complexity of these cases challenged me in the best way. But deep inside, I felt disconnected, out of place.
I didn’t fit into this world. I didn’t play golf, but more importantly, I didn’t share the same values as many around me. Over the years, I had been blind to what I was sacrificing. I had let go of my smaller, personal clients, the ones who had once given me a sense of purpose. My divorce had pushed me to prioritize security over fulfillment, but now, remarried and looking toward the future, I realized something fundamental: I was successful, but I wasn’t happy.
It was a turning point. With no clients, just faith in God and destiny, I made the difficult decision to leave the firm with a longtime partner and friend, choosing the uncertain path of an independent lawyer. The transition was financially challenging, but it brought something invaluable: freedom. I reconnected with individual clients, built strong personal relationships, and eventually began working as a mediator and arbitrator—a role that felt deeply aligned with who I was.
A few years later, at just 47, I was appointed as a judge of the Federal Court of Canada—a highly prestigious position and a great responsibility. Judging is an exercise that teaches wisdom—or at least, one hopes so! For the next twenty years, I traveled across this great country, from coast to coast to coast, witnessing its vastness and diversity. Time left its mark: my face grew thinner, the extra pounds disappeared, my hair turned silver, and I now wear glasses—perhaps an undeniable sign of wisdom. Yet, inside, I felt as young as ever.
I could have continued to hear cases for another ten years, fulfilling my duties on the Bench with dedication. But in the background, there was always that little voice—the artist I had been since childhood—whispering, waiting to be heard.
And so, I made another life-altering decision. My longtime and faithful companion and I left Ottawa for Montreal, embracing a new chapter. I stepped away from the security of the judiciary to become a professional visual artist.
I chose early retirement—not for leisure, but for reinvention. Life continues to bring challenges, but I fully embrace them. The road is uncertain, but I welcome the risk, the unknown—the adventure. And I have no regrets.
I have never felt so alive. Every day, I thank God for the chance to rejuvenate and express myself in new and unforeseen ways.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://lucmartineau.ca/en/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/martineau6458/
- Linkedin: https://www. linkedin.com/in/luc-martineau/




Image Credits
Photos: Richard Tardif and Luc Martineau
Designers : Franck Sukhoo, Madeleine Cormier, Shelby Johnstone, Soho
Models : Alexandra Maria-Misu, Camille Gagnon , Sarah Vockeroth, Angèle Cissé, Katherina Krykunova

